


Until Then

by SteRhubarb



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Same Age Keith & Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16216802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteRhubarb/pseuds/SteRhubarb
Summary: Iverson drops a bomb on Keith.-----Shiro presses both hands over his mouth and lets out a controlled breath as he waits for Keith to say something.“You’re leaving.”





	1. Chapter 1

  
The silence stretches a beat too long as the commander’s words hang in the air.   
  
  
“I asked if you’re all prepped yet for your year-long, son?” He reiterates politely, putting a hand on Shiro’s shoulder as though to snap him out of whatever momentary lapse had him zone out. “Not long now ‘til you ship out, right? What is it, eight? Ten days?”  
  
  
Shiro tears his gaze away from Keith, just past the commander’s right shoulder, and forces a smile.  
  
  
“The mission, yes- uh, yeah, of course. I’m definitely looking forward to it.” He hardly knows if what he’s saying makes sense, but the commander seems satisfied and he pats the shoulder beneath his hand a few times.  
  
  
He grumbles some words to excuse himself and without knowing what he’s just done, he leaves the room behind him in utter stunned silence.  
  
  
Shiro presses both hands over his mouth and lets out a controlled breath as he waits for Keith to say something.   
  
  
“You’re leaving.” He speaks the words quickly, as though refusing to have them dwell in his mouth too long, and it makes it difficult to properly gauge the level of his anger. “You’re leaving _Earth_ , in _ten days_ , and you--”  
  
  
“Hold on, let me-”  
  
  
“How about you let me get this straight, Shiro!” Keith cuts him short and there’s no mistaking now how pissed he is.  “You signed onto a mission into space for an entire year, and you’re leaving in ten days.”  
  
  
He leaves a beat, and Shiro realises this time it was actually a question.  
  
  
“Yes, and--”  
  
  
“And you weren’t going to tell me.”  
  
  
Shiro sighs. It’s not that simple, but the chance to explain the entire logic behind his decision without Keith punching him or storming out of the room seems slim. “ _Of course_ I would have told you before I left.”  
  
  
“You lied to me.”  
  
  
Shiro hurts in a way that makes him wish Keith had just out and punched him already. He’d have known how to handle that. “ _No_. Keith--”  
  
  
“ _Everybody_ else knew, right? They had to. So it was just me. _God_ , I’m such an idiot. Or, what, did you bribe the whole base to keep their mouths shut when I was around? They conceived that mission seven months ago! The _effort_ you must have put into keeping this from me!”  
  
  
“I thought it would be easier--”  
  
  
“Easier for _you_ ,” Keith spits. “You’re an asshole.”  
  
  
He turns, thumps the pad to open the door.  
  
  
“Keith, _don’t_ walk away!” Shiro panics and uses his commanding officer voice.   
  
  
Keith freezes in the doorway, practically shaking with anger. When he looks back over his shoulder he sees Shiro’s hand outstretched slightly like he wants to grab hold to stop him, and scowls at it.  
  
  
“Is that an order?” Keith bites, resentment clear in his voice.  
  
  
“It doesn’t have to be,” Shiro says, and then deflates slightly, his shoulders slump and he pushes a hand into his hair. “Please, just hear me out.”  
  
  
Keith waits, and Shiro pleads with him once more to stay and hear him out, but Keith just punches the keypad and leaves.

 

_____

 

There isn’t anywhere to hide on the base that isn’t predictable or restricted, and while Keith doesn’t particularly give a shit right now if he’s breaking rules, it is late and nearing lights out and he’s kind of exhausted.  
  
  
He’s avoided the training rooms, knowing that Shiro would go straight there to find him and hash this out. The garage was his next thought, but then that means it would be Shiro’s next thought, so Keith is instead in his room counting down the minutes until Shiro comes knocking.  
  
  
It’s four hours later.   
  
  
Keith sits up abruptly when the door opens and Shiro stands waiting in the doorway. He looks frustrated, and Keith thinks he has some fucking cheek to look at him like that.  
  
  
“You forget how to knock?”  
  
  
Shiro frowns, and he does look a little ashamed of himself at least for that.  
  
  
“Can I come in?”  
  
  
“ _Now_ you’re asking permission? I could’ve been doing anything in here,” Keith snaps, kicking off the blankets and shifting to sit on the edge of the bed.  
  
  
Shiro still doesn’t enter. “I can go, if you really want me to, but I thought we should try to talk about this.”  
  
  
“Again; _now_ you think we should talk about it?” Keith shakes his head incredulously. “What if I said _I_ didn’t want to talk about it right now?”  
  
  
“I’d say we can leave it ‘til tomorrow but it’s not like you’ll get any sleep tonight.” Shiro leans against the doorframe and puts a foot just on the threshold so that the door doesn’t close on him. “I know you, Keith. We might as well hash it out right now and get it over with. I just don’t think the other cadets on the corridor need to hear it.”  
  
  
Keith flicks his eyes to the side, but that’s as much invitation he’ll give Shiro.  
  
  
He waits until Shiro has sat himself down opposite on the edge of the desk before asking, “Did you bribe Matt, or should I follow through on my gut-instinct to beat the shit out of him for not telling me either?”  
  
  
“I blackmailed him,” Shiro admits immediately, as though showing Keith he is completely open to answering any and all questions.   
  
  
Keith nods; resolves to at least let Matt off, for now.  
  
  
“I’m not helping you,” Keith tells him abruptly, when the silence has stretched for an uncomfortable amount of time.  
  
  
Shiro bows his head and chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before sighing heavily. “Yeah, no, I’m trying to think of how to word this.”  
  
  
“I just need the truth, Shiro. It’s not that hard.”  
  
  
Shiro narrows his eyes slightly. “The truth is that you would have taken it just as badly if I’d told you straight away, and there was no way to know how that would have affected everything leading up to leaving.”   
  
  
Keith opens his mouth to say something, but Shiro raises a hand to indicate he hasn’t finished yet. “Look, I didn’t lie to you, and I never made anybody else lie to you, either. I just asked them not to talk about it.”  
  
  
“So your ‘calculated decision’ was rather than give me seven months to digest this, you thought a few days would be just as good?” Keith asks, incredulous and irate. “And you’re honestly trying to convince me that that decision was made purely to benefit _me_? Not because, oh, maybe it would just make it easier on yourself?”  
  
  
“No--”  
  
  
“No.” Keith agrees, stands so that he can be on level with Shiro while he yells at him.   
  
  
“I think I get what you’re saying,” he bites with sarcasm, “it’s because I’m _so_ _obsessed_ with you, right? That finding out you were going off to Kerberos for a year would cause me to flip my shit and then you’d have to deal with all the drama and embarrassment I would cause?”  
  
  
Shiro scoffs. “What are you talking about? I never said that.”  
  
  
“Not explicitly, no. But I know what you think of me,” Keith sneers. “This way you can just leave earth and get as far away from me as possible-”  
  
  
“Stop,” Shiro snaps, finally. He puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder, but it’s shrugged off and Shiro is just left reeling for a moment, unable to fully absorb the level of self-derision Keith is spewing. “Jesus Christ, you don’t really believe that, do you? Keith, you’re- You and Matt are my best friends! Why would I think any of that about you?”  
  
  
Keith shakes his head. “I don’t know, Shiro. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you told Matt about it straight away, but if Iverson hadn’t have dropped it into the conversation earlier, I would _still not know_ about you leaving.”  
  
  
Shiro presses his face into his hands for a second, then raises his head and continues. “Tell me, then. Tell me what you would have said? If I told you the same day I told Matt, tell me exactly what your honest reaction would have been.”  
  
  
“I’d have been devastated!” Keith yells back truthfully, but he wields his honesty like a weapon rather than a concession. “Of course I would! I doubt Matt jumped for joy, either. Whether you’d told me seven months or two years ago - you’re going into space for _a year_ \- I can’t help that. It’s not like my feelings would have stopped you from going. I wouldn’t _want_ to stop you from going.”  
  
  
“This is the problem,” Shiro groans, and Keith misunderstands and scowls at him. “No, not _you_.”  
  
  
“The problem is that you’ve made me feel like a fucking idiot, and I’m still no closer to knowing why you kept it from me, specifically.”  
  
  
“You’re not listening to what I’m saying to you--”  
  
  
“Oh, I’m listening,” Keith growls. “I’m listening to you dodge every chance to apologise. Do you think I _want_ to hate you for the last ten days you’re here?”  
  
  
Shiro seems to flinch at the word ‘hate’, and looks desperately at Keith. “I’m sorry,” he says imploringly.  
  
  
Keith lets the apology sit there for a minute, lets Shiro hang for an agonisingly long time, and then shrugs. “It’s done now, right?”  
  
  
Keith walks over to the door and stands beside the keypad pointedly. “I’m pretty tired,” he says, without meeting Shiro’s gaze and hits the pad to open the door.   
  
  
For a brief moment Shiro doesn’t move, frozen with incredulity, and then he gets up and walks obediently over to the door.   
  
  
“I might see you after breakfast,” Keith weakly offers as he passes, and as soon as Shiro is in the corridor he closes the door behind him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You waited all day to come tell me off for skipping classes, huh?” Keith asks drily. “I just wanted some time on my own, okay? Was that not allowed? Sir?”  
> Shiro sighs, wearily. “Keith...” he warns.

Keith doesn’t turn up in the mess hall for breakfast. He doesn’t attend their morning workshop, and he doesn’t show up for lunch, which strikes Shiro as unusual considering how ravenous Keith is all of the time.   
  
  
Shiro pretends he’s not starting to worry, and then when he dips into the lecture hall to check if Keith has turned up for his afternoon class, he pretends not to be annoyed at finding his seat empty.  
  
  
He gives up on his search around mid afternoon when he has to go for a routine medical in preparation for the imminent mission.   
  
  
Keith doesn’t arrive back at the base until it’s gone dark. He’s filthy and exhausted, and he feels only fractionally better than he did that morning. A hard drive out into the desert usually does wonders for clearing his head, but as the night crept in Keith decided he’d rather not be left alone with just the dirt and the stars considering the current circumstances.   
  
  
He returns and the buzz wears off almost immediately. He’s back in his room for ten minutes before there’s a knock.  
  
  
He has to hit the keypad with his elbow to avoid dirtying it, and he’s entirely unsurprised to see Shiro stood there frowning at him when the door opens.  
  
  
“Shocked, I am not,” he grumbles, and returns to the closet to grab a towel, leaving Shiro to enter or hover in the doorway as he likes. “How did you even know I was back?”  
  
  
“Jesus, where have you been? You stink,” Shiro says, distracted, and Keith has to laugh at the grimace on his face.  
  
  
“Did you stake-out my room?” Keith asks, turning to look back over his shoulder to see if Shiro will try to lie. He sees the flicker of contemplation on his face and watches, intrigued.  
  
  
There’s too long a beat before Shiro finally says, “No, of course not.”  
  
  
“No?”  
  
  
“I got Matt to do it.”  
  
  
Keith nods, satisfied, and slings a towel over his shoulder.  
  
  
“Well, no doubt you’ve been waiting all day to go Round Two, but I’m actually headed for a shower, so…” He tips his head toward the door and waits for Shiro to see himself out, but instead of leaving, Shiro walks over to the bed and sits down.  
  
  
“I can wait. You won’t be that long, right?” he says pointedly and Keith has to admit that he knew it probably wouldn’t be that easy. He sighs, but doesn’t dignify Shiro with a response - just turns and walks into the bathroom.   
  
  
When Keith emerges fifteen minutes later, he walks across the room towelling his hair dry almost violently and barely avoids tripping over Shiro’s feet. He fumbles in a drawer and pulls out a comb before tossing the towel onto the floor by a chair.  
  
  
“You went out on the hoverbike then?” Shiro asks, reclined on the bed, watching Keith shuffle around the room in his shorts.  
  
  
“Uh, yeah. I didn’t sign it out, though, so don’t rat on me.”   
  
  
“Of course not,” Shiro says sincerely, and then clears his throat. “What, did you plow it into a ditch or something? You looked like you’d been swimming in mud earlier.”  
  
  
Keith grunts. “Rotors need looking at, I think. Overshot.”  
  
  
“You could have checked it out in ‘shop this morning,” Shiro suggests.   
  
  
He sits up when Keith drops the comb onto the desk with a clatter and turns to him head on.   
  
  
“You waited all day to come tell me off for skipping classes, huh?” Keith asks drily. “I just wanted some time on my own, okay? Was that not allowed? _Sir?_ ”   
  
  
Shiro sighs, wearily. “ _Keith_...” he warns.  
  
  
“I’m not wrong, though, am I? You’re an officer now, right?”  
  
  
Shiro shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.” He picks at a loose thread on the bed-cover and shakes his head to himself.  
  
  
Keith feels a pang of guilt knowing that at any other time Shiro’s promotion would be subject for celebration. “It matters,” he says sincerely. “It’s a big thing. And you deserve it, obviously. I just wish you’d told me.”  
  
  
“It’s just for the mission,” Shiro says, and Keith can tell he’s doing that thing where he undervalues himself because he’s feeling like shit.  
  
  
“You should be proud of yourself. I am,” he adds. He says it while he’s picking the towel up from the floor because he doesn’t have the guts to do it looking directly at Shiro. He balls it up in his arms and drops it in the bottom of his closet, and it’s so clear he’s just moving things around for something to do that Shiro starts laughing softly under his breath.  
  
  
Keith lifts his head and looks over with a raised eyebrow.  
  
  
“Thanks,” Shiro says, smiling now, and Keith can’t help but smile back.   
  
  
He tries to hide it by tugging a t-shirt on over his head, and then asks, “Do you still get an officer’s pass? Can I use it while you’re away? I think it gives after-hours access to the hangars.”  
  
  
Shiro tips his head back and barks a laugh at how eager Keith looks. “I don’t, but it would have, yeah.”  
  
  
Keith tuts in disappointment. “Not even a real officer,” he mutters with a smirk, and when Shiro laughs a little fuller, Keith is struck, as he is almost daily, by the overwhelming realisation that he is completely fucking gone for this guy.   
  
  
“Nevermind,” he adds, dodging a stray sock Shiro picks up off his floor and throws at his head. “I’ll just steal Matt’s, since he owes me now.”  
  
  
Like a switch has flipped, the mirth falls from Shiro’s face and he sits up a little straighter on the edge of the bed. Keith sees the shift and tries to brace himself for whatever is coming by leaning back against the desk.  
  
  
“About that,” Shiro frowns. He searches Keith’s face for a moment like he’s considering the possibility of not having to tell Keith this, but knows better now. “Matt? He’s not going to just be up on the space station anymore. They’ve given him a promotion.”  
  
  
“That’s… great?” Keith says warily, waits for the other shoe to drop.   
  
  
“He’s going to be our Junior Science Officer,” Shiro explains, and when Keith still doesn’t say anything after a moment, clarifies, “Keith, he’s coming on the mission to Kerberos.”  
  
  
Keith turns away slowly and plants his hands on the desk, takes a long, deep breath and tries to absorb what he’s being told. After yesterday’s blow, he suddenly feels like there’s too much being stuffed into his head at once and the pressure of Shiro waiting patiently behind him makes him lock up.  
  
  
After several long minutes of Shiro watching his tense shoulders, Keith finally speaks. He doesn’t turn back around, but Shiro can tell he’s using all of his power to keep his voice steady.  
  
  
“Okay, so you’re both leaving,” he says practically, as though he’s taking this all in his stride and not betraying the fact that he currently feels like he wants to cry out or punch something.   
  
  
“Keith,” Shiro says softly, and stands up to move closer. “I know how hard this must be for you, but I need you to know that nothing will change while we’re gone.”  
  
  
“Nothing will change. Got it.” Keith agrees but his tone is clipped and undeniably hurt.   
  
  
“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro prompts gently, touches the inside of Keith’s wrist, and all the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. It’s just his arm, but the touch feels so intimate, and he swears he can feel Shiro’s breath on his neck for how close he’s stood all of a sudden.   
  
  
In that moment Keith makes the decision, in light of everything, to allow himself to indulge in Shiro’s comfort and sympathy. He turns back around to find that they’re stood so closely within one another’s space that his avoidance of Shiro’s face leaves Keith staring instead directly at his chest. Unexpectedly, Shiro reaches out then and takes Keith’s hand in his own.  
  
  
“I’m telling you,” Shiro continues quietly, snapping Keith out of staring down at their hands, studying the meaning behind the touch, “that the way I feel won’t change.”   
  
  
Keith swallows thickly, the realisation gripping him abruptly that  there are hardly a multitude of ways to interpret this. The knowledge both thrills and terrifies him into speechlessness.  
  
  
“Do you… hear what I’m saying?” Shiro asks.  
  
  
Keith raises his head slowly, trying not to tremble with anticipation. “What?”  
  
  
Shiro searches his face for a moment, and Keith watches, desperate and hopeful, as he comes to a decision, finally fixing his gaze on Keith’s mouth. “I’m going to miss you _so much_ , Keith. I’ll be thinking of you every day.”  
  
  
Keith nods his dumb agreement, and lets Shiro tip his chin up gently, and the breath almost leaves him knowing that Shiro is about to kiss him. This is it, he marvels, and he thought it was never going to happen.  
  
  
He grips the edge of the desk behind him a second before Shiro’s lips press against his own, and he’s so glad for his own forethought because it feels like his legs are going to give out under him.  
  
  
Shiro steps closer and they shift the desk together so that it thuds slightly against the wall. He kisses Keith like he’s going to walk out of the room tonight and never see him again, and Keith has to fist his hands in the front of Shiro’s shirt to try and rid himself of the thought - of any thought of Shiro leaving. It’s so bittersweet that there’s barely any relief in finally getting this.   
  
  
Keith groans as Shiro presses him against the desk and he lifts a leg instinctively so that Shiro can shift him up onto the edge of it and step between his legs.  
  
  
They move against one another for a while before Keith feels compelled to say something, and breathes the question “bed?” against Shiro’s lips between one wet, devouring kiss and another.  
  
  
At this, Shiro stills suddenly and pulls away.   
  
  
He frowns slightly at Keith, then presses a hand over his own mouth and steps away, and Keith’s blood runs cold. Shiro squeezes his eyes shut tightly for a second and then looks at Keith with such an apologetic expression that Keith feels sick, and he has to lower himself from the desk onto shaking legs.  
  
  
“Say it,” he demands abruptly, into the awkward silence stretching between them.  
  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Shiro says quickly. “It’s-- God, Keith, you-- We shouldn’t do this. It’s not fair. It’s not fair for me to do this to you, and I know what it’ll do to me, as well.”  
  
  
“It’s already done!” Keith snaps back, incredulously. “‘ _Not fair_ ’? Are you kidding me? Why do you think I was so angry? We’re already way past the point of making this difficult.”  
  
  
“This was the problem,” Shiro sighs, alluding to earlier explanations that Keith is only coming to realise the meaning of now. He steps back and drops onto the end of the bed again, putting his head in his hands.  
  
  
“You keep saying that,” Keith tries to say sharply, but his voice cracks a little, “and each time it sounds exactly like ‘ _Keith, you’re the problem’_.”  
  
  
“No, it’s not _you_ \--”  
  
  
“Yeah, you seem to have to qualify that bit every time as well, _and yet_.” He rubs a hand over his mouth and has to breathe through to urge to sob, but he gets a handle on it pretty quickly and looks down at Shiro with frustration. “What do you really want?”  
  
  
Shiro shakes his head between his hands and mutters, “it’s not that easy.”  
  
  
“You’re the one making it hard. We want- I _think_ we want the same thing here, and you’re sabotaging us both from getting it--”  
  
  
“I’m trying to save us both from getting hurt!”  
  
  
“Of course you are,” Keith scoffs. “I don’t know how it’s escaped your notice, but I’m already fucking hurt. And do you know what would make me feel better? If you were honest with yourself for five minutes about how you feel about me, and just-- God, just, kiss me again,” he finishes lamely, the fight seeming to drain out of him suddenly.  
  
  
Shiro finally raises his head and he looks up at Keith with sorrow on his face. “You’re going to be alone here for more than a year and I don’t want you to have to waste time waiting for me to come back,” he says plainly, and is startled when Keith tips his head back and barks a laugh.   
  
  
“God, you’re an idiot.” He pushes away from the desk and paces over to the closet, wrenching the door open to reach into a corner tucked away and pull out a stack of items. He walks up to Shiro and drops them into his lap unceremoniously, then retreats back to slump against the desk.  
  
  
Shiro shuffles through the items and recognises every single one. There’s a birthday card he gave to Keith their first year at the garrison, a photograph of them both and Matt one year on a furlough out of town, various print-outs of high scores they’d gathered co-piloting in the simulator, the book Shiro had given to him second year about an ace pilot which Shiro had jokingly inked over the cover art to make it look like Keith was the main character on the front. More birthday cards, several other photographs, and a hand-written note that Shiro had given to Keith after the incident when he almost got suspended for fighting.   
  
  
The items, Shiro supposes, are meant to speak for themselves, but then when he’s reached the last piece, Keith pipes up.  
  
  
“I’ve been waiting for you for years, Shiro. I can wait longer,” he says simply, no hint of reservation or embarrassment.  
  
  
It’s entirely entirely overwhelming, but Shiro manages to slide the bundle of papers onto the bed beside him and stand up. He pushes a hand back through his hair and meets Keith’s gaze with a sort of self-deprecating smile, and rolls his eyes at himself.  
  
  
“I’m an idiot, huh?” he concedes, and Keith lets out a short laugh in relief, and nods his agreement.  
  
  
“Fuck, dude, you’re the worst.” He leans forward and presses his head against Shiro’s shoulder, and finally Shiro brings his arms up around him to pull Keith into an embrace.  
  
  
“What can I do to make it up to you?” Shiro mumbles into his hair, and Keith’s spine straightens in response. He turns his head and Shiro leans back to look at the expression on his face - it’s a little mischievous and then Keith bites his lip and Shiro thinks it’s pretty likely something dirty is about to leave his mouth.  
  
  
“You could…” Keith’s dark lashes brush against his cheek and he gives a half-shrug before finally looking back up at Shiro and asking, “you could ask them to issue you an officer’s pass for me to borrow?”  
  
  
Shiro bursts out laughing and it’s such a bright, unexpected sound that Keith can’t help himself, and while he’s distracted he pulls Shiro closer and kisses him firmly. 

 


End file.
